


Heart Shaped Box

by Aoi_Sensei



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Abuse, Divorce, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 06:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12150639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoi_Sensei/pseuds/Aoi_Sensei
Summary: Aoi remembers his husband the way he wants to. Beautiful, smiling, soft, giggly. Not as the cold and emotionally abusive person Uruha's trauma had molded him into. Falling to his knees for his husband time and time again with the false hope that the man he fell in love with would one day return, Aoi is devastated when he abruptly wakes up to an empty house. Uruha had taken everything without leaving a not or saying a single word.





	Heart Shaped Box

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This has been sitting in my files forever so I decided to finally put it out there! This is inspired by something I went through personally. I wanted to write it to not only get my own feelings out but also as a reminder that mental illness and trauma can still cause abusive behaviors. It's not always just laying in bed all day watching netflix and crying. I guess... I'm tired of people focusing on the "fluffy" side of mental illness. What about the people who were abused by people who have PTSD? What about the people who got PTSD from someone who had PTSD who abused them? This story will probably get very heavy. This story will be a place where I talk about my own PTSD through the eyes of our beloved Aoi. Because who doesn't like aoiha angst and also suffering??? I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you think in the comments!

The clock read 1:20am as Aoi rolled over restlessly, clutching the cold sheets between his guitar calloused fingers. He wasn’t drunk nor was he sober. He was sad, simple as that. Just sad. His existence was sad. Here he was all alone yet again. It didn’t matter how many people he tried to befriend, it always ended up the same no matter how hard he tried.

 

He cursed himself. Why had he decided to stay up so late? He was meant to slumber hours ago but the aching, in not only his chest but his stomach, only made his mind swim with more and more dark thoughts. The truth was… Aoi wanted to feel. He wanted to feel so damn bad but it was getting to the point where he was numb. He could sense the anguish behind the fog in his heart, both thankful and frustrated that it had not reared its ugly head.

 

Was he not allowed to feel loss? Was he not allowed to feel lonely? Was he not allowed to feel pain? No. Because he wouldn’t allow himself to. Because it hurts. It hurts too damn much in such a short period of time. “It’s not fair-” he hiccuped, curling up around the pillow… _**his**_ pillow…. Aoi buried his face into the sham, inhaling the scent of the lingering musk deeply before he erupted into tears. There it was, the familiar throb he had been waiting for.

 

Aoi was used to loosing friends, that was true. They all left one by one, even in pairs a few times, never had he had someone to claim as a best friend. But this time it was different. This time it was all too much for the poor man. This time he lost the love of his life. He lost the one good thing he ever had going for him in all his years of living.

 

His body trembled as he pressed himself against the pillow, scratching at his arms in an attempt to punish himself. He deserved to be miserable. He deserves to have no love in his life. A nerve wracking sob escaped his lips, a mix between a plea and a scream that was shrouded in cries. He deserved this but at the same time he didn’t. He knew he didn’t, yet here he was. So he must deserve it, right? There must be something wrong with him to the point where all the love he could offer wouldn’t even mask the hideous truth…. Whatever that truth was…

 

Slowly he began to calm down, still trembling and fragile. His grip on his skin lessened until his fingers fell away. His eyes dropped as he pressed his tear stained cheek to the sham once more. Oh how he missed the satisfying warmth of the other. How he missed the comforting look in his eyes and the softness of his smile. How he missed waking up next to him only to press kisses against his shoulder blades.

 

“Uruha.” He whimpered before drifting off into a painful sleep. And slowly the sun rose and Aoi cracked his eyes open to yet another empty bed and another cold room. Only one word leaked into his head.

 

 

_**Why?** _

 

 

Staring at his phone screen for the umpteenth time, Aoi sighed heavily, his chest clenching with anxiety. Uruha had been extremely distant towards him for the last few months and told Aoi to stop sending him concerned messages, and so he did, only to please his love for it did nothing to soothe his own fears.

 

After weeks of silence and struggling to hold a conversation with the younger guitarist, Aoi awoke that morning to find that he was cut out of all Uruha’s very little private media accounts….

 

But why?

 

That’s what he couldn’t figure out. He had spoken to Uruha just yesterday only for a few moments and everything had seemed just fine.

 

After sending Uruha a text to his phone and on LINE just to make sure he was okay, he tried to get his mind off of it by browsing twitter aimlessly and looking at guitars online, though he couldn’t help but to check his phone every ten minutes or so.

 

Uruha had done this to him once before, but only did he do it to break Aoi’s heart over a dumb music dispute. Of course Aoi had apologized profusely for the incident, hardly obtaining any apology from the younger in return… And though it hurt, he was just content on having Uruha back after a week of being apart.

 

The first time it happened Aoi had cried and cried for days, feeling confused and hurt that Uruha had let something so petty destroy the strong bond he thought they had. After countless months of struggling to put their relationship back together, Aoi didn’t even have the energy to be upset this time.

 

He felt like this was the end, that Uruha was not coming back into his life. And just like that everything they had built and gone through and experienced together was all worthless. Just dust in the wind. Uruha had been the one to decide that what they had held no meaning. Uruha had been the one to decide that Aoi wasn’t worth being friends with anymore. That was the thing about Uruha that had always pissed him off, he always needed to have the last word and do things on his own terms. He didn’t care about how Aoi felt, that was extremely clear to him time and time again.

 

It had been months since the whole band has broken up. Six whole months and every single day still hurt like a bitch, but these days without Uruha hurt him the most. Everyone was gone, mourning privately. That’s not fair, he thought. The GazettE was the thing they all shared, it’s the thing that hurt them all the most, it’s not fair that they all would just go off and never text or call him. Uruha had kept up with him until now, Ruki dropped off the face of the earth, Kai’s with his family in New Jersey, and Reita… well fuck did he know what Reita was up to nowadays but he never text Aoi back!

 

“He’s never coming back, Yuu.”

 

His old manager broke it to him over the phone. He knew… He knew that already. The fact that his beloved was so heartless to just shut him out like he were nothing… He hated him.

 

“I know.’ He groaned, not wanting to hear it.

 

“This will be good for you.” He said softly. “He was hurting you.”

 

He knew that too.

Everyone had been telling him for months on end that he should cut Uruha out of his life. That Uruha was childish and selfish. That Uruha was only using him as a coping mechanism because he couldn’t handle reality.

 

**_They were right, and he knew._ **

 

After he hung up Aoi dragged his heavy body to his bed, plopping down onto it with a heavy sigh. Closing his eyes he trembled with the ghostly memory of Uruha running his fingers through his hair.

 

“ _You’re so beautiful like this.” Came a satisfied hum as Aoi leaned into the touch. Uruha bent down and Aoi welcomed the kiss enthusiastically as they pressed their naked bodies together._

 

“ _Never leave me.” His lover breathed, pressing their foreheads together. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle that.”_

 

_This was one of the rare nights that they were fine together. One of the few moments Uruha had showed him any love in the past few months. Noting the tears in his eyes, Aoi stroked his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Something must have happened to him to put him in such a state._

 

“ _I won’t.” He promised, grinning up at him with dancing eyes. “You’ll never escape me, Shimmy!” He laughed as Uruha groaned and a soft “Babe!” escaped his lips. Aoi wrapped his arms around him, spooning him from behind as the younger man hid his blushing face in his pillow._

 

“ _I’m serious.”_

 

_The blonde relaxed when he felt lips on his shoulders, reaching to hold Aoi’s hand. “I know.”_

 

Tears burned his eyes like acid before they finally fell. He had spent every single day with his love, had dedicated all of his free time and beyond to him for the past two years… and he just… threw it all away. It was probably because Aoi was disgusted with an artist Uruha admired, but ending a relationship for something like that was… honestly even more disgusting in Aoi’s eyes. They both loved the art of visual kei more than life its self, that was evident since that’s all they did together was talk about The GazettE. But it matched up with the reason Uruha freaked out the first time.

 

To cut him off because he wasn’t happy with an artist… how childish. How dumb. How petty. How manipulating. He hoped. He prayed it wasn’t true, that there was no way in hell that Uruha would do that to him. That Uruha would disregard their love with such little care. Maybe Uruha was a Sociopath. He definitely was a narcissist, that was for sure. Everyone he spoke to confirmed it. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t mentally handle it. What happened to the sweet, loving, calm, patient Uruha he fell in love with? Was that man ever real? Who replaced him with a cold reptilian who’s life mission it was to emotionally manipulate him? How did this happen...

 

 

Aoi let out a scream of frustration as he pulled his hair out in clumps, inflicting punishment to himself yet again for his lover’s crimes. Punishment for letting such a disgusting man into his life. Punishment for loving him. Punishment for trusting him. Punishment for being foolish enough to think Uruha would keep his promise. Punishment for being human.

 

All he was left with is a tiny heart shaped box under the bed. Filled with funny edits of them together, of Aoi’s head on Reita’s body, of Uruha’s head on a duck; Of their pets together, of screen shots of cute and funny conversations they had; Of their wedding and their first anniversary, of two Christmases in which they spent as a family.

 

That was the only thing Uruha left in an otherwise empty apartment. Aoi’s heart and all the memories with it. He can spill vile for those who will listen. He can preach to the choir and be the pot that called the kettle black. But Aoi won’t give in to his demonic ways. His empty eyes and cold spidery hands. Aoi grasped at straws, hoping, waiting, praying. Holding the heart shaped box to his chest, begging as garbage from Uruha’s mouth spilled onto his eyes like a post-apocalyptic waterfall.

 

Turning the heart shaped box black with regret and abhor.


End file.
